


Why Don't You Show Me a Little Bit of Spine?

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Best Friends, Foreplay, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Lapdance, M/M, Peterick, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 08:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1934091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>being friends with pete can really be a chore. but sometimes it can pay off, too, though patrick would never admit that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Don't You Show Me a Little Bit of Spine?

**Author's Note:**

> for kali

being best friends with pete was such a chore.

"Pete, seriously, even if I wanted to fuck you, it wouldn't be legal. You just turned 18, and I'm still a minor."

"but Tricky..." he whined, sticking his lip out in an irritatingly adorable pout as he was fucking straddling patrick's fucking lap, "...it's not my fault you're such irresistible jailbait..." he was fucking stroking patrick's fucking sideburns. sometimes patrick wondered why he even stuck with pete. pete whose hands were now on patrick's fucking chest as he kissed his fucking neck. patrick didn't sign up for this. when he signed on to this friendship, this was not in the contract. he didn't want to be the victim of a horny, squirmy idiot (who always had the worst ideas and patrick, as his best friend, always ended up being the one picking up the pieces after every damn failed stupid idea.) He wasn't legally bonded to this ass, so why did he stick with him? because he loved him. he hated to admit it, but it was true. so painfully true. not that he'd ever admit it, or that he was gay in the slightest. pete, on the other hand, was always spewing "gay above the belt" bullshit, but patrick was sure it was just for show. you don't just have an ass like that and not use it.

wait, _what the fuck?_ patrick was more than a little disturbed to find himself thinking about his best friend's ass, but what was more disturbing was that pete was now giving him a lapdance. and, to make it worse, he was good at it. like, off-duty-stripper good. now, patrick was aware of pete's resemblance to a hooker in disguise, but he had never, ever, not once in his _life_ even _dreamt_ that he'd enjoy being grinded on by peter fucking wentz. 

pete was still working at patrick, trying to get him to give in, but patrick wasn't planning on losing so much as his hat. not that that would keep pete from trying or anything. all of a sudden, his lips were brushing against patrick's ear and he was fucking _moaning_ and mumbling to patrick.

"please, patrick... more... give me more... i want to hear you moan..." 

as if that wasn't terrifying enough, patrick was already hard, and pete fucking knew it. and that was bad. really bad. being hard for pete was like giving a kid candy for pulling his sister's hair. of course, being encouraged, pete was now lifting patrick's shirt over his head. what's worse is that patrick wasn't putting up any kind of fight at this point- only watching pete as he continued to grind on patrick, who was biting his lip to make sure he didn't moan and egg him on anymore. soon, patrick had lost his shirt, and his arms were crossed as he glared at his friend on top of him.

"Alright, fine. you win. you got my shirt off. now can you get off of me?" 

but pete wasn't just playing a game anymore. 

"P-patrick, please... just- just once, okay? nobody has to find out..." 

he was practically begging. it was pathetic, the way he was gazing into patrick's eyes. his face had a mix of lust, determination and desperation. patrick actually felt kind of bad. but that didn't last long before pete was whispering in his ear again. 

"I've wanted this for so long..."

for fuck's sake, pete was totally palming him through his jeans now. patrick moans quietly, and pete smirks triumphantly before kissing down his chest, his lips curling around one of patrick's nipples. eventually, patrick gave in, moaning softly, arching his back. 

"P-pete..." he whimpers quietly, pulling at pete's shirt until he pulls away, allowing patrick to take it off. 

without another word, pete was working at the button on patrick's jeans, climbing off of him only to pull them off and toss them aside. pete was now sitting beside patrick, his hands on patrick's pale thighs, his lips on his neck. this was so fucked up, but not nearly fucked up as the fact that pete's hand was in his fucking boxers, his fingers curled around patrick's fucking cock. 

pete began to pump his hand slowly, causing patrick to moan. 

"do you like that, Tricky?..." pete smirked, his hand moving faster. eventually thrusting into pete's hand, pulling him closer, pressing their lips together. pete's tongue ran across patrick's bottom lip before he bit it, tugging gently as patrick let out a loud moan, coming in his boxers. 

"Good boy..." pete mumbled fondly, kissing his forehead. pete was fucking exhausting. "I call big spoon!" 

Patrick sighed, lying on his side, deciding he might as well let pete have this. it's not like he had any dignity left to save at this point. 

patrick should've known from the start that there was no way of keeping his clothes on if pete wanted them off. being friends with pete was such a fucking chore. 


End file.
